


Shatter Me

by manipulative_broken



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Betrayal, Broken Will Graham, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Character Death, Death, Dialogue Heavy, Drama & Romance, Erotic Poetry, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Hallucinations, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hunters & Hunting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inner Dialogue, Jealous Hannibal Lecter, Jealousy, M/M, Major Character Injury, Murder Husbands, Pain, Poetry, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Protective Hannibal Lecter, Romance, Sad, Suicide, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 16:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16706236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manipulative_broken/pseuds/manipulative_broken
Summary: Hannibal and Will survive the plunge into the Atlantic, but does their hearts survive? And will others around them too? Wade into the raging stream of angst and devastation, ride the roller coaster that is Hannibal and Will's future together and watch a beautiful crash of love and death through this series. Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEY! Welcome to a new Hannibal fic! This time it will be part of a series, with many chapters, instead of my previous one-shot with Venom. This story starts from after the fall, and falls in line with character and plot development. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and more will be coming up! :3

Will could never forget it. Neither could Hannibal. How the wind rushes past both of their ears, the salty ocean breeze rushing into their systems as they fell in each other's embrace. It was like time stilled for a moment, their gaze locked into each other's, Hannibal's amber eyes with Will's soft, broken green gaze, whilst everything whizzed past behind them, the noise and the clarity a bare echo in their ears, yet so damn sharp it made their heads ring.

Then the splash, the cold water like sharp pinpricks against their skin. Instinctively, Will thrashed, feeling the cold water bubble up to his nostrils before they fully submerged under the surface. But he remembered the arms around him, and the warmth of the body that he clung desperately to, and with that his body relaxed, relying on Hannibal to save him like he always did. With strong arms, Hannibal scooped water out of his way, dragging Will jerkily yet still gently above the waves. The water wasn't rough, barely moving as if it had waited for their arrival. Small waves drifted past them, and splashed upon their skin. 

"Hannibal..." Will whimpered, strong arms linking around Hannibal's neck. Without the presence of Hannibal, Will was sure that he would have drowned already; with his wounds and muscles that ached with every move, the blood gently being washed away in the icy water of the Pacific. "Will..." Hannibal whispered back, voice coarse in his throat. His hand reached out to stroke Will's face, and push away the damp curls that blocked Will's vision. Will had a flashback to when Hannibal had caressed his face like that, but at that time he resulted in having a scar across his abdomen from the hunting knife. This time, he was in Hannibal's embrace, the pain numbing away, partly because of the cold, partly because of Hannibal. "I'm sorry." He choked out, breathing raggedly as he attempted to keep his head above the water, despite all the emotions flooding them and suffocating his lungs. 

In response, Hannibal nuzzled his cheek gently, brushing against the blood stained stubble that the water slowly washed away. He murmured against his wet curls, "Suicide by proxy. What a elegant way, Will." His thick accent, deepened even more by the water that surrounded them, brought shivers to Will's body and he gazed up at the sharp hazel eyes that he knew so well. He didn't reply, pressing his body towards Hannibal as they bobbed up and down in the water. They could quickly leave the shivering hallo of water, but it was clear none wanted to leave. For once, Alana wasn't there, Jack and Freddie weren't looming over their shoulders. They were there, finally together. The broken empath and the equally broken stag. 

***

Will winced as Hannibal wiped the antiseptic around his wounds. The scar across his cheek was barely healing, the salt water making it flare up even more. His knotted shoulders tensed up even more as the medicine burned through his skin, a sharpness that sent shivers down his spine. "Ow, Hannibal-" Will wanted to complain, before Hannibal pressed the washcloth tightly against his skin. "Quiet now, Will. The more you talk, the more it will hurt." Will scoffed, "You're just trying-" As he spoke, he shifted his body, and the stich across his shoulder twisted, and he gasped, his body stilling as pain shot down his spine. Hannibal chuckled, gently splashing water upon Will's torso to wash off the dried off muck and blood. 

"Hannibal. Your bullet wound..." Will glances at Hannibal's bandage around his waist. He assumed after passing out after falling into the Atlantic, Hannibal had used his former surgeon skills to heal his wounds. He trailed off as Hannibal shot him a look. Rolling his eyes, he turned his back to Hannibal and allowed him to continue cleaning him up.

They were in Hannibal's house, Francis' body lying in his own pool of blood just a few feet away. Blood from Hannibal's bullet wound and the blade Francis had sunk into his cheek still stained the carpet, glass shards from the shattered wine glass strewn all over the place. Hannibal had somehow carried Will from the waters back up to shore, presumably how he had when he rescued Will from Mason (Muskrat Farm) and took care of his body. Closing up Will's wound, Hannibal glanced around the place. He always enjoyed sophistication and tidiness, but with stains everywhere, plus the dead body outside, Hannibal wasn't pleased. He grunted as he got to his feet, starting to pick up the glass shards.

"What are you going to do about...him?" Will gestured vaguely to Francis. "The Great Red Dragon?" Humour laced his words despite nearly dying from his hands. "Well, dead red dragon. Are you going to...eat him?" Will spoke jokingly, but then Hannibal turned and fixed hi dark hazel eyes on him. "He was rather rude. And he hurt you. Quite badly I have to say." A smirk tugged at Hannibal's lips as he watched horror unfurl onto Will's face, before grimace and acceptance flashed over his eyes as he sighed, "Just...just tell me if you serve him up. I rather not eat...him." Hannibal nodded, chuckling as he swept up the glass shards quickly, dumping them in a corner.

Just then, Will's phone rang out. "Shit." Will cursed, fumbling around on the coffee table for it. Hannibal glanced at the vibrating device, and a dark overshadow casted over his face. Will instinctively shuffled back slightly, gripping the phone tightly as Hannibal growled, a low rumble in his throat, "Answer the call, Will." 

"Its Jack-"

"Answer it."

Will shot Hannibal one last look before sliding his thumb over the call button. "Will." Jack's voice resounded from over the line, a mellow deep rumble that was laced with worry and yet still threat lingered in the background. "What happened? Where are you? Its been 8 hours, and I've called you 16 times." A small clattering noise filled his ears, before Will realized how badly his hands were shaking. "I-" 

"Will? Are you safe? Are you in any pain? Where's Hannibal?" Alana's soft voice came on, and her words sent a sharp knife piercing through his heart. He swung towards Hannibal, who watched him through an emotionless face, eyes darkened and dilated. "What the shit do I do?" He mouthed, frantically, thumb hovering just barely above the end call button. He couldn't turn Hannibal in, not now, Not after what they went through. Together. "Will?" Jack asked again.

"He's listening. But he's too injured to respond, Jack. And Dr Bloom, don't worry he is safe. Francis is dead." Hannibal spoke up, the thick accent cutting through the stilling silece. Will's eyes widened as a stilling silence lingered over the phone. 

"Hannibal, I swear to god if you hurt him-"

"Francis was supposed to be caught, Will, not die!"

Exasperation and disappointment both resonated through their tones as Alana and Jack freaked out behind the line. A dull ache throbbed inside Will's heart. "I'm sorry..." HE whimpered, a chilling breeze that drifted through the house sending shivers down his spine. Once again, Jack and Alana stopped talking, before Alana dropped her sharp tone and soothed, "Its fine, Will. It's not your fault Hannibal is a piece of-" She caught herself, and Will could mentally see fumes coming from Alana's ears. "Don't worry. We will send a car to your location, get Hannibal back in prison, and you can go back to Molly and your dogs."

Hearing Molly's name sent a wave of pain and betrayal rushing towards Will, even more as he glanced at Hannibal, who had his arms crossed. His face remained an empty canvas, but his gaze seemed to drill its way into Will's skull, and seemingly anchor itself there, so Will couldn't leave his side. And Will had no intention to. "But Molly..." he whispered to himself, cradling the phone to his chest. Molly was his stability after Hannibal surrendered. Hannibal was the thunderstorm that ripped his roots from the ground, while Molly was the sun that helped him grow and keep his sanity grounded. 

"Hannibal...If I went back to Molly," her name was like acid on his tongue, "Would you h-hurt her? In any way?" Hannibal stared at him, before raising an eyebrow and scoffing, "If I had wanted to hurt your wife, Will, she would already be dead. And delicious." Will's jaw clenched, and he avoided Hannibal's stone hard look, glancing down at the phone in his hand.

"Give me a moment." Alana wanted to argue but was shut up by a soft, broken, "Please." that echoed out of Will's mouth. He hung up the call. 

"Will..." Hannibal started. "No. Don't. Please. This is my decision, and my decision only." Will was on the verge of breaking down, the only thing stopping him was Hannibal's gaze on him. Now only two of their presence in the air, his eyes had softened, and instinctively Hannibal had loosened his jaw, watching Will stare off into space. "I love Molly." Will said, his voice devastated. "But I cant lose you again, Hannibal." The back of his eyes started stinging, and Will sucked in a ragged breath. 

"You won't lose me, Will. Not again." Hannibal's voice vibrated low and dark as he stepped forward towards Will. HIs arms were crossed behind his back, hair still wet from the water but the fire in his eyes never dulled. "Alana would be looking for you. Jack would send the whole FBI team after both of us if you stay." His tone was monotonous, yet behind it hovered desperation and threat. Will knew Hannibal could slaughter one or two agents but the whole team? Will doubted it. "Go back to Molly. I'll find you, Will. I promise." Hannibal ended, eyes hooded as spoke.

The phone vibrated again and Will picked it up. Molly. Gulping in a deep breath, Will answered the call. "Will? Where are you? Please, say you're alright...Mr Crawford said-" 

"I'm fine, Molly. Please. I'm...." Will raised his head, his gaze locking onto Hannibal's dark ones, before lowering them, knowing what he had to do. "I'm okay. I'm coming back soon. Wait for me." Molly's gentle voice floated over the line once again, "I love you, Will. Please stay safe." The line clicked dead. Will sighed, dropping both the phone and his head as he threw his body onto the bed, then winced as stinging pain shoot out like cobwebs from his back. "I'm sorry, Molly." He muttered against the pillow. 

A hand rested on his back, and he turned, watching the tall man rub gentle circles around his bruises. "Promise me you won't abandon me again." Will croaked out, curling up around Hannibal. In that moment, he forgot about Jack, Alana or his wife he spoke to just a minute ago. There were a thousand fragile voices echoing, humming around him, reverberating around him, and Will felt each intensity and octave, pain cutting through his heart as it blossomed, the warmth of Hannibal overwhelming and overruling him, like a wave that rose and crashed over both of them, locking him in Hannibal's embrace.

Then Hannibal moved away from him, and his heart shattered.

"You have to leave soon, Will." Hannibal rumbled, watching Will rise to his feet, sniffling as he grabbed Hannibal's shirt and slipped it on. His blood stained one had vanished, presumably with Hannibal now. Hannibal himself was dressed in one of his famous three piece. 

"I'll find you." Hannibal repeated as he watched Will open the door. A step outside, Will turned, face flushed. "Do not leave me to the wolves again." His words were a bare whisper against the morning breeze, his voice a gorgeous melody that stabbed its way into Hannibal's heart and threatened to rip apart his walls that were on the verge of crumbling. 

"Yes."

Will's shadow disappeared just as the morning's rays of light flooded through the glass windows, illuminating the house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Where is she?"  
> A small smirk, the threat and darkness surrounding him as he walked away, suit straightened with the phone pressed to his ear.   
> "In the pantry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly graphic chapter, with violence and major character injuries, but generally no one dies here thank gods heuhue.

A sharp sound cut through the stillness of the room. "Sorry, its my phone." Jack apologised, reaching into his coat pocket and flipping open his phone. The word he saw sent his whole body on overdrive, adrenaline suddenly rushing through his veins as the scar across his neck pounded with memory and pain. "Everyone move! Trace the call!" HE thundered out, everyone rushing to follow orders. He clenched the phone tightly in his hands.

_Dr Hannibal Lecter._

Someone gave him a thumbs up. Growling, he answered the call. "Finally, Jack. Took you a while to answer. I presume you have me tracked on your computers?" Hannibal chuckled over the phone. Jack grunted, "What do you want? Where's Will?"

A light shuffle in the background, like blades rubbing against cotton.

"Oh he's own his way to Molly. Don't worry, Jack, your precious china is strong enough." Jack could detect a sense of possessiveness behind his words and snarled back, "So what do you want, Dr Lecter?" More scuffling in the background, and a small clatter. "Well, I'd like to schedule a meeting with Dr Bloom, if that is possible." His voice rose with dominance, clearly indicating that Jack really had no choice. Jack clenched his fists, resting them firmly against the metal THRAY?

"NO!" He roared in his familiar way, everyone around him shrinking into themselves. He immediately knew he messed up when Hannibal paused for a moment before answering. Whenever Hannibal paused it meant he was calculating and mentally thinking through possible outcomes of their conversations. Which was scary knowing Jack's past with Hannibal. "No worries. Thank you for talking with me, Jack. I truly missed your voice." The line cut off.

Jack glared at the device in his hands and aggressively shoved it back into his pockets. "Where the hell is the bastard?" He growled, striding towards the computer. "He's untraceable. But I supposed he's heading out." Jimmy answered, fingers flying across the keyboard as Hannibal's location flashed on screen. Jack rubbed his forehead, stress and annoyance flooding his head and giving him a migraine. LIke clockwork, the healed wound suddenly seemed like it has blossomed open and the glass shards was once again embedded deep into his neck, now that Hannibal was out in the wild.

"Send out a report that Hannibal is out. Make sure everyone minimise leaving their houses unless absolutely necessary." He stormed out of the room, once more grabbing his phone out and furiously dialling Alana. The phone rung for a while, before Alan's voice resounded over. "Jack-"

"Hannibal's coming to find you." In her words he heard fear webbed in between. Alan was rarely scared. Except...

"I know _. He's outside my door_."

***

Alana grabbed her gun, and checked the magazine not once but twice. She didn't want another incident where Hannibal had done some Houdini and swapped out of her magazine. The doorbell rung again, and Hannibal spoke, "Alana. Please open the door. I don't want to break this beautiful architecture." She gulped, glancing at Margot who hovered behind the couch, eyes peering just above it. "Stay there." She mouthed, and crouched towards the door. She pressed her eye against the peep hole, and there stood Hannibal, not bloody and sweaty like she expected, but dressed up well, hair slicked back with a bouquet of roses in his hands.

"What do you want, Hannibal?" She spat his name out like venom, and even Margot shot her a look at how sharp her words were. Still watching Hannibal, she saw he didn't even flinch, instead fixing the roses that had slanted. "I wanted to congratulate you on your verger baby. I never had a chance to." Her heart ached when he spoke, turning to see Margot shrug. They owed a part of getting the child to Hannibal, after all, but now free, Hannibal could snap her neck for all she cares and just leave with no blood in his trail.

The door bell rung again.

"Fine!" She cried out, and yanked the door open. Hannibal glanced up, and their eyes caught. Alana's petrified green eyes met his hazel dark ones. Margot suddenly appeared behind her. 'Please come in, Hannibal." Hannibal glanced at Margot and watched how fear and defensiveness flashed cross her face, but determination to stay strong glinted in her eyes. Hannibal couldn't resist winking at Alana, whose hand trembled besides her waist.

As he brushed past her, he gently whispered in her ear, "Not so tough now the glass wall is removed, Mrs Bloom." Her body tensed up and she whirled around, wanting to yell at him but Hannibal had drifted away from her. She snarled under her breath, his words like ice picks that had had hacked its way into her brain, monetarily she completely forgot what was going on. A small buzz vibrated along his spine, and in a split second she was transported back to that dreaded hell, the glass shards and droplets raining down on her and the final impact of cement against cracking bones-

"Alana?" Hannibal's voice sliced her thoughts into pieces. Hannibal watched her, a edge to his smile as he watched her snap out of her daze. He knew exactly what his words had done to her. Alan shuddered, before walking towards him and taking a seat besides Margot. She cleared her throat before rasping out, "Why are you here? Jack is going to find you." Hannibal narrowed her eyes at her,, and she instinctively, and reflectively leaned back, mentally trying to hide behind Margot's strong façade. "As I said, I came to visit." HE extended his hand, and passed the bouquet to Margot. HE felt the bouquet shake as Margot's hand wrapped around it, "You don't need to be so...rude about it." Hannibal spoke with a calm that sent her heart racing. Her training in reading people just didn't seem to work on Hannibal, like a blank piece of artwork that no one could decipher.

Nobody replied him, and he stood up, glancing around the house. "Beuatiiful archictecture. Did you design this yourself, Alana and Margot?" HE mumbled off to himself, knowing full well that nobody would reply him. Crossing his fingers behind his back, he nodded contently to himself. "Alright. I'm done here. Thank you for having him." HUmor lingered behind his words, and Alana scoffed behind him, mutturing furiously to herself, "I didn't invite you, Dr Lecter. You brought yourselfright to my damn doorstep."

Hannibal pushed open the door and suddenly he couldn't see. He growled, pushing his way forward, but he had been caught unexpected, and stumbled backwards, barely tripping over the steps as he was dragged back up. He snarled, wrenching the bag off his head, and MArgot's fist connected with his nose. Hannibal grunted, pressing his back against the wall as his pupils became blown wide with pain and excitement. "Mrs and Mrs Verger, I don't want to fight you-" Hannibal barely missed a hard kick to the shin that left a dent through the wall as he jumped away. Sighing, Hannibal dodged another upper cut from Margot, while Alana screamed at him from the kitchen, "Fight us, you absolute bastard!" Hannibal glanced at her, her eyes crazed, gun cocked straight towards him. He knew she couldn't shoot even she tried, the safety wasn't even pulled, so he lunged.

Alana yanked on the trigger. Nothing happened. The next thing she saw before she nearly lost conscious was Hannibal skidding against the ground and sweeping her legs off the ground. The gun clattered from her hands, and her heart almost jumped out of her chest from the panic that overwhelmed her. Just as Hannibal grabbed the gun off the ground, a tightening sensation filled his senses. He choked, clawing at the rope.The course texture of it around him sent memories flooding back to him from the Mason's Farm, and he got dragged just far enough for Alana to get (shakily) back to her feet.

Hannibal reached for the knot around his neck and ripped, yanking it above his head. He got to his feet, watching the couple surround him. His eyes were sharp now, ablaze with the thrill of fighting, yet the sheer control he held back shone through his dark eyes. "You're going back to the hospital!" Alana growled, now stronger with Margot by her side. "Hmm..." Hannibal rubbed his neck, cocking his head gently to the side. "You two are a match in hell." He spat, glowering.

Alana laughed sacarstically. "Thanks a lot, Doctor." Hannibal didn't reply, waiting for them to come towards him. He didn't need to wait long. They both attacked at the same time; good execution but they serve rly underestimated Hannibal. He slipped in between their bodies, expertly snatching the gun away from Alana. A shocked gasp rang out, and Hannibal couldn't help but wink at her as her flustered eyes switched between her hand and the gun that was in her grasp a second ago. "Next time, Alana, hold on to your weapons more tightly." Hannibal's voice was low, teasing, yet behind the humor lay a rumble from the monster that prowled in the depths of Hannibal's soul. Alana knew Hannibal was stalling. Margot knew Hannibal could rip out their throats and make them into a meal at that instant. But both knew Hannibal wanted to play. After all, after being caged for so long, prodded and mocked by Alana and others, the beast wanted temptations. And oh, the beast handled it well.

Alana built up the courage and swung, but Hannibal caught her arm just before it collided into his face. Instantly, regret drained her face of blood. "Hannibal, I-" The sharp snap of bone echoed throughout the house and both ladies' screams rang out, a dark melody that Hannibal savored. Tears streamed down her face, smudging her makeup, as she cradled her broken arm. Alana couldn't be strong anymore, pressed as far away from Hannibal as she could, legs sprawled. So Margot had to be. "Margot, be blind. Don't be brave." Hannibal repeated the same words he once said to Alana, and they tore through her, memories of that haunted night bursting to light before her eyes. "Margot, don't-" She tried to warn her wife, but she was too late as Margot rushed forward and tried to snatch the gun back from Hannibal's grip, but he went and fired a mere meter away from her head. "Shit!" She went down, cupping her head. Margot couldn't hear anything besides the shrill shrieking in her ear. She didn't even get the chance to raise her head before Hannibal swung his foot and clubbed her across the head. She smashed into the wall, and slumped down, trails of blood smearing down the colors.

"Margot!" Alana cried out, now sobbing, one from the pain that attempted to tear her brain apart, and two seeing her wife being knocked unconscious. Hannibal crouched down, still graceful as ever, and rested his fingers against her neck. "Don't worry, Ms Bloom. She's alive." He stepped back up, rolling his neck in circles. "On the bright side, you two are great fighters." He stepped towards her. Alana frantically tried to skid backwards, but as she placed her hand down, pain like a thousand knifes erupted in her veins, chugging through her systems and sending a scream wrenching its way out of her throat. "I came with flowers. But you just had to rip them apart, dear Alana." Hannibal murmured, advancing towards her. His eyes glinted in the pale darkness of pain and horror that haloed around them, like the demons her parents warned her about.

"You're a monster." She managed to choke out, wincing. "No, Alana. You brought this upon yourself." Was the last thing she heard before her skull knocked solidly against the wood floor and her vision flickered dead.

***  
Jack waved the team towards the house and with a BANG! They rammed the door down. They expected to see Hannibal and Margot in a frantic fight for their lives, Alana with her gun aimed....nothing. The living room was void of any chaos, a pretty bouquet of roses resting atop it. As Jack stepped into the room, he flinched, as his eyes landed on the blood smeared against the lower edge of the walls. "Search out!" He thundered out, swatting his hand around in wild gestures.

Jack's blood was boiling. He should have known Hannibal would have wanted to hurt Alana, and growling he grabbed his phone and dialed him. Hannibal answered on the second ring, and Jack howled at him, shouting through the phone, "Where is she?!" The agents winced, rubbing their ears. There was a eerie silence over, and Jack could feel a sly smirk spreading its way across Hannibal's face.

" _In the pantry_." Three words whispered, dark sadistic humour lacing his words.

Then Hannibal hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Remember to leave a Kudo and comment any improvements I can make!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And he had thrown it all, and her, out of the window.

He pulled up to his house. The minute he stepped out of the car the sweet breeze of the forest and the sharp spiking coldness seemed to drain his body of warmth. He heard a loud bark that seemed to cut through the stillness of the trees and the sound sunk deep into his heart.

"Hello? Who-" The lady at the door paused, before seemingly to release a deep breath that she had been holding in. Her eyes shown warmth and kindness, a smile painted upon her beautiful face. Brown locks tumbled down her shoulders, an apron wrapped around a slender frame. Winston barked once more, and the pack charged, swamping him with fur and licks and kisses.

"Will. You came back."

Will raised his head from petting the dogs. Molly managed to glance at his tear- streaked face and the veins in his eyes that stood out from his pale face, before he lowered his gaze, her sweet look too golden for his toxic betraying heart to handle.

 _"Hello, Molly_."

***  
A bowl of warm chicken noodle soup was placed before him, and Will undoubtedly missed the delicious aroma of the cheaper luxuries in life. "Soup." Molly stated, indicating to the bowl, and Hannibal's face suddenly flashed before his eyes, merging with Molly's, but his dark eyes stood out from Molly's gentle ones, and Will quickly blinked the hallucination away. "Thank you." He murmured, cupping the bowl to warm his hands, the heat spreading from his palms to his head. The atmosphere around him almost seemed friendly, warm and inviting not the coldness of Hannibal's kitchen where he hunted and killed. The presence of his dogs sent a hard ache spiraling towards his heart and he sighed raggedly, his breath making waves in the soup.

Molly cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to relieve the tension between them. "So...how's Hannibal-" The name was like a demon's wail to his ears, Will's hands suddenly dropping the spoon as it clattered back into the bowl, soup lapping over the rim. Molly jumped, her eyes flashing with worry and concern, as she reached out a warm hand to touch Will's spiking hot one, heat clouding his head as he gasped, eyes terribly glazed over. His lashes fluttered over his ocean blue ones as he slipped his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please, Molly. Do not mention his name...now." His skin burned where Molly touched him, and he had to force himself to not wretch her hand off his shoulder. He utterly despised himself at that moment. He was bloody married, but after everything Hannibal seemed to replace her and suddenly he couldn't stand her touch. You betrayed him for her. A cruel whispered, sending goosebumps down his spine and he shuddered, making Molly pull away instinctively, gaze full of pity.

"I'm sorry, Will." Her apology hung like a thread in the air, Will aching to snap it off. He avoided her gaze, despite Molly trying to desperately to lock eyes with him. Her husband. The thought pieces through his foggy brain, the entirety and overall fact hammering into his numb brain and forcing him to look up. "Here." Molly raised the spoon, placing it into Will's shivering hand. "You need the warmth. Drink. Please." Will raised the spoon to his lips, and almost instantly HUMAN flashed before his eyes and he gave a frantic gasp, suddenly unable to breath and ungracefully threw the spoon down onto the table, reaching out with his fingers for the table as he panted, his warm breath misting out in the cold air. His knuckles turned white from the effort and he could sense the horror and fear that oozed from Molly's stare.

"I can't eat. I'm sorry. I can't with-"

"It's alright, Will. Take your time." Molly's calmness and soothing voice was a boulder crashing into his body, his breathing uneven and raspy as he spoke, words feeling like thin shards of glass tearing across his vocal cords. If he had done this in Hannibal's dining room, he would have been killed—

A deep hollow realization sunk into Will. Hannibal never really punished him for being rude, despite that being one of his staggering motives to kill. His eyes widened in terror as he remembers how sometimes Hannibal's eyes would darken, savagely, if Will had scoffed at the fancy words of the dishes or laughed at Hannibal's words. How he was on the verge of death every time he interacted with Dr Lecter. Especially after he found out Hannibal was killing, yet his broken mind still decided to chase after him, running with him to Florence and in a sense taking a bullet for Will. He lowered his head, landing on the dogs that curled around his legs, as if sensing his pain. Molly picked up the spoon Will had hurled. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Sweet. Caring. Loving. Everything Hannibal was not. Yet, Molly lacked the sophistication. The grace and elegance that resonated from each of Hannibal's movement. She could never cook as well as him, though she would never kill an 'innocent' either.

"No." Will's voice came out more rugged than he expected, cracking slightly over the word. A piece of him hoped she would stay with him, watch over him, like Hannibal had done, but he knew he had ripped his chance with her when she stood up, hands firmly clenching the bowl. Her body language was rigid, clearly unpleased and unsatisfied with the lack of enthusiasm Will had upon seeing her. But she masked it well, a beautiful smile painted across her face as she turned around to the kitchen.

Once she was earshot, Will fell into his open palms and sobbed quietly.

  
***

  
"Jack?" Alana murmured, eyes hazy as she looked at her surroundings. The thick scent of antiseptic hung like a fog in the air, and in the clouds stood a dark shadow looming over her.

"Alana."

  
Hannibal.

  
She kicked at her sheets, jumping to a sitting position as she frantically scrambled away from him. "Alana." Hannibal repeated, advancing towards her. His shadow seemed to overwhelm, that killer glint in his dark red eyes that seemed to flashed in comparison to the white walls behind her. She ripped the patches out of her skin, heart racing, and tried leaping away. But then Hannibal reached forward, a large hand gripping her shoulder-

  
"ALANA." It was Jack. Her hallucinations shattered, and as she came back to her senses, breathing heavy and a thin layer of sweat upon her forehead, Jack watched her with careful eyes, hand resting upon her arm, that was trembling. "Are you alright?" She shuddered, raising her head jerkily, meeting his shallow ones. Her voice caught in her throat as she whispered, "I thought you were Hannibal..." She never sounded more pathetic, maybe the blow to her head made her this fragile little glass shard now. Her head was ringing, like many angels with a shrill voice so sharp it cut through her head, or like a siren, attracting, luring her, before dropping her into the pit of horrors she's constantly trying to escape from. She blinked stupidly, trying to catch back her breathing, but her heart refused to, pumping rapidly as it thudded against her ribcage, the hollow feeling of emptiness vibrating in her chest.

"Hannibal is going to pay for this, Dr Bloom, I swear to you-"

"Where's Margot? Where's my wife, s-she took more blows than me, I-" Jack nodded, waving his hand slightly to try to calm Alana down. Even Alana realized how wild she looked, hair dishevelled, eyes blown wide open, and gripped the bed sheets tightly between her fingers, clasping it with shivering fingers. "She's alright. She's currently in another room, but rest assured she is very stable. Hannibal didn't intend for you two to die today." Jack soothed, dropping his usual loud and commanding voice, yet his last words lingered behind like a swinging axe, ready to come for Alana's head. She knew deep in her heart, Hannibal wouldn't hurt her. But wouldn't he? After all, when he was in Baltimore State Hospital of the Criminally Insane, locked up with all his books and pencils, what had she done behind the glass? Mocked him, threatened him, forcing him to part ways with his luxuries for a while. And Hannibal, she realized, hated the rude.

Most of the time, he was calm, patient, accommodating, yet whenever someone, especially the psychiatrist and reporters who came to interview brought up Will's name its like a switch was flicked on and Hannibal would turn wild. Snarling like a caged beast (he was technically caged) and locking furious darkened eyes onto the person, gripping into his skin so tightly until his fingernails tore into his skin, blood pooling beneath his nails. He clawed at the guards who flooded in to try to sedate him, and he manged to tear through skin before a needle sunk into his neck. The last thing he heard was "Will Graham should be happy he got twirled around such a possessive bastard's finger...". Hannibal went down grinning sadistically. Those interviewers never came back. Soon only Alana visited him. How he never lost his temper before her, always restraining his movements gracefully like the pencils between his fingers as he sketched, surprised her. Sometimes he drew buildings, sometimes he drew Will. Those with Will on it, Alana noticed, he never seemed to keep out of his sight. Once a guard tried to clear it away, Hannibal had ripped it before the guard even stepped into his cell. Many times Alan wished Hannibal hadn't committed these heinous crimes, wished they could be transported back to the days where Alana slept in Hannibal's silk bed and he made delicious breakfast that was NOT human.

  
Those thoughts made tears spring behind her eyes, stinging it, and she aggressively wiped them away, not wanting to fall prey to Hannibal again. She had to be strong. For Margot. She reached out a hand, and lightning bolts of pain ripped through her system, and she flinched badly, eyes dissociating for a moment, both from the pain and from the painkillers that didn't really work. "Shit." She swore dizzily, remembering her arm that was bandaged up. Jack followed her gaze and sighed, "Your arm is broken, Alana. Try not to move it too much." She bobbed her head, tossing her head back onto the pillows that lay beneath her. The blank, prime white ceiling stared back at her. "This is what Hannibal sees every time he lays on the bed" She thought, and shut her eyes. Maybe if she closed her eyes, she would be calmer. It did nothing but sped up her heart, as waves of insecurity and danger crashed onto her. The next minute was in silence, before small footsteps and a thud of the door closing.

She wished Jack hadn't left, but as she opened her eyes, peeking through her lashes, no one looked back at her, only the corners of the hospital rooms. The dark reality filled her heart, and for once she couldn't control her emotions, her degree in concealing her thoughts torn apart like shreds through the grinder. She knew Jack would have placed security outside her and Margot's room, but she couldn't help the dreaded, sinking feeling that Hannibal was going to slaughter anyone in his way just to get his hands on her. The moment she closed her eyes again, the nightmares sunk back in, death and the screams of the dead resonating in his ears, demons and devils creeping into her vision-

Her eyes shot back open, the long lashes now with pearly beads of tear drops hanging from them. When she blinked they fell, tricking along her pale cheek and slipping off her chin. Alana didn't dare close her eyes again. For once, she was scared. Scared of the nightmares. Scared of dying. Scared of Hannibal, the man she trusted, both emotional and psychically.

_And he thrown it all, and her, out of the window._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little angst...more hard ones coming next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will should have known not to jam the puzzle pieces which didn’t fit together.

The wind whistled along the trees, rusting the leaves as footsteps followed behind the lurking shadow. The sky flashed dark suddenly, as in predicting the showdown about to unfold before their eyes. A sharp knock.

One knock.

Two knock.

The door swung open with a creak, the edges of the heavy wooden door scraping against t the unpolished floor. The man before her towered over her, dark eyes flashing and dominance seemingly wrapping itself around her skin. Her heart rate increased by a mountain leap, eyes widening, grip tightening around the door handle. But she composed herself, cleared her voice, and challenged herself to meet his gaze. Those eyes glinted savagery and torment, and they punctured holes in her brain, her mind going blank as it flickered to start. She stuck out a hand, willing her body not to betray her racing heart by shaking.

"Dr Lecter."

  
A pause. Before a sly, mysterious yet mischievous smile tugged his lips up, and he gripped her outstretched hands in a firm, solid handshake, nearly yanking her off her feet as she underestimated his strength.

"Ms Lounds. Please invite me in."

She pushed the door slightly further, but before she could attempt to hold the door, a large hand slammed onto the wood and pushed it open with ease. He towered over her, somehow mocking her with his grace, and pointed forward, fingers together. "Ladies first." A calm, low rumble that made adrenaline pulse through her veins.

A slight scuffle of feet, a 'pwoosh' of a pillow deflating and finally the empty thud of the door slamming against its hinges.

***

Will woke up drenched in sweat. He was a sight to behold, sweat making his skin glisten, eyes blown wide open, panting as he shoved the blankets away from his shivering legs. His hand reached out besides him, and as expected Molly wasn't there, probably cooking and away from his vulnerable state. He hated it, the nightmares crawling into in his sleep. Only with Hannibal, he managed to sleep soundly, the warmth of a strong arm around him, the soothing voice that relaxed his body and dominating presence that seemed to chase away his demons and replace it with sweet angels and melody that rocked him to sleep. His chest heaved as he stepped off the bed, slick and sweat making the sheets cling onto his quivering thighs, unstable even as he clambered to his feet.

"Molly?" He cried out gruffly, voice scratching against his dry throat. Upon hearing his voice, the dogs padded towards his legs, circling him and nuzzling his waist. Will bent down shakily, scratching their heads. Their warm fur felt like silk against his course hands, and he instinctively smiled, momentarily forgetting his nightmare seconds again. Winston barked, pawing at Will's legs, and for a while he didn't understand, before a unhappy thought sunk into his heart. They were hungry. Not just affectionate for him, but hungry. Had Molly forgotten to feed them? He blinked, not wanting to believe his head, and shuffled to the kitchen, the dogs following obediently behind.

Molly, upon sensing his presence, turned. Her usual long hair was tied up neatly in a bun, face glowing as she held a frying pan, egg sizzling. "Will. You're awake! I made-"  
Will cut her off, surprising even himself with how sharp he sounded, "Did you forget to feed my dogs?" Molly flinched, glancing between his sweaty body and the dogs. "No? Are you sure you're alright? You look sweaty and-"  
Will's patience was thin, one from the early morning and second from a migraine that seemed to slowly flood his head, and snapped, "No, no, Molly. You do not get to condescend me like...that." He barely caught himself before the word 'Hannibal' slipped out. It was surprising really, how easily he submitted to the dark Dr Lecter, yet instantly rebelled against the sweet Molly. "Where's the dog food..." Will muttered angrily to himself, wrenching open cabinets. The pain throbbing in his head was like a drummer was having a rock concert in his head, full yet resonating and slamming against his skull. He yanked out the dog packet, before staring at the empty bag. Will had to take a moment to register what was going on, before reality slapped him across the face. His innocent, pure Molly had lied, straight to his face as if she was Hannibal. Only Hannibal can do that to me. A sinful thought flitted into his head. He tried to sense any sort of remorse or shame from Molly, but as he swiveled around, the empty bag clenched tightly in his shaking fist, her face was blank, eyes dull and lazy like she didn't care she had been exposed. The gas was turned off, the frying pan laying on the counter tile, as if it wanted to run away from the boiling anger that emitted from Will's clenched fist.

"You fed them? Fed what, air?" A snarl tore out of his mouth, and Molly huffed, crossing her arms firmly over her shoulder. "Those dogs are your responsibility, Mr Graham. You just had to run back to Hannibal, didn't you? Leaving me here to handle this household and all your goddamn pets!" She glowered back, pointing aggressively at the dogs. The tension in the air built up like a ladder, the aroma of the egg polluted by the bitter words Molly spat. Will stares back at her, unable to respond. He never expected her to bring up Hannibal, and that betrayal sent his heart racing, exhaustion and pent-up anger bubbling to the surface. The dogs whimpered besides his feet, as if sensing his pain, and woofed quietly, whining and poking at Will's legs with their snouts. "What did you feed them while I was away?" A low whisper was all Will could muster out. Molly paused for a while, debating whether to tell Will, but a quick flutter of his lashes over broken blue eyes broke Molly and she immediately regretted her words. "Leftovers." She confessed, not daring to meet his gaze. Now, Will scoffed, disbelief anchoring his empathy and allowing only hurt to rise up to break through. Hannibal willingly came to feed them delicious sausages, not even actually dog food, yet what did Molly, his own wife, done? Not even bother to buy more dog food and instead feed them scraps from the table. Will treated his dogs like children, and the mere fact that Molly couldn't even take care of them properly when he was away sent a sour feeling coursing through his blood, feeling like molten lead beneath his pale skin.

Will's shaky legs couldn't sustain his weight, and he unsteadily slumped against the fridge, the only thing preventing him from crashing to the ground was the dogs that crowded beneath him. "Three years, Will. Three years of marriage that you threw away to run back with Dr Lecter." The truth of Molly's words shattered his defence. Deep beneath her words were agony and betrayal that resonated as she spoke, eyes brimming with pain, the sweetness melted away. And Will knew she was correct. He could have stayed away from Hannibal after he surrendered, yet when he was needed in the slightest he had willingly crawled back to him. He didn't dare to catch Molly's gaze, disappointment radiating around the kitchen. Will was trying to feel apologetic, but he couldn't, as deep inside he didn't regret his decision. Hannibal was like a drug, a cigarette , a dark substance that refused to let Will go. He could stray away for him, but one subtle mention and his control would break away, releasing the chains that kept him backed away from the darkness that called to him. The darkness he and Hannibal shared. Finally, a dull, " _I'm sorry_ " broke out, his body hating how forced it sounded.

A soft gentle hand wrapped around his clammy ones, forcing him to look up. Molly locked eye contact with him, both of them hovering at the edge of crying, Molly with her tears, and Will with his shaking. Despite the gentleness Will felt from her touch, he knew that was a mechanism of making him say the truth. Touch was a borderlinking factor, programming the brain to trust and spill, and Molly knew exactly what she was doing, denying Will the permission to avoid her gaze. She sniffed, tightening her grip on his hands. "If you're sorry, tell me to my face that you won't go back to him." A low murmur, her voice wavering. She wanted to trust Will, trust he wouldn't abandon them. Not again. "He will find me, Molly. Even if I don't go to him." Will stuttered, nearly sobbing and the battering emotions that thudded against his heart. "He will hunt us down." A soothing touch, suddenly turned scalding hot against his shivering skin, and he flinched, gasping and gulping pathetically, backing against the fridge as if it could tear him away from Molly's piercing stare. "Will you go back to him, Will? _Will you?!_ " She ripped apart the victim façade, knowing clear well Will was more unstable than her, roaring at him, eyes flashing with anger, the veins pulsing along her neck. Will gasped, not realizing the savageness Molly kept hidden behind that sweet face, not once in their time together had she lashed out at him like that. Overwhelmed, his face crumpled, bawling and blubbering, "I'll go back to him, I'll g-go back t-to him..." He wailed, voice cracking as tears spilled from his eyes. Molly released her breath, slumping down in front of him so they were level. Will was a broken mess, body wracking in sobs and shaking terribly, and she couldn't help but cry too, gripping his hand tighter as they cried.

"I'm sorry, Molly. I'm so s-sorry. I cant...without him I-"

She wanted to scream, shout at Will's betrayal. How was she going to face her friends? Hey, her husband left her to run off with his cannibalistic serial killer boyfriend. She wouldn't be able to face anybody, the embarrassment would be like devil horns, making everyone back away from the broken empath's wife. A buzz at the base of her spine wanted to make her slap Will, for everything, but instead Molly shushed him, pressing her lips to his forehead with a small kiss. "You made your mind, Will. I can't choose who you love." She comforted, the anger slowly evaporating as she dully accepted her husbands' choice. Deep inside, she should have known Will hadn't fully left Hannibal behind. She should have known her husband still had a piece of Hannibal buried deep in his heart, and the plunge to the water had made the piece bubble up to the surface, letting Will face the harsh truth that he belonged to Hannibal. Not Molly, who provided him with stability, not Jack, who tried to protect him from danger, but sends him to the lions den himself, not Alana, his sweet guardian that supported and defended him. But Hannibal, the one that accomplished everything.

Will bit his lips so hard he tore through skin, blood dripping from the tear in small rivulets. "I'm sorry." He repeated the only thing he was able to say without bursting into tears again. He looked pathetic, but as Molly crept forward and rested her hand on his shoulder, he understood the depth of his confession. Will couldn't lie to her anymore. Sooner of later, either he or Hannibal would be at each other's doorsteps. Waiting for the other to flee away together from the FBI. A life full of danger instead of the peace and tranquillity he shared with Molly. But a life he craved with a dark desire. He closed his eyes, acceptance filling his thumping heart, and leaned back against the fridge. Molly rested her head on his shoulders in an act of understanding, and there the broken couple sat.

_Will should have known not to jam the puzzle pieces which didn't fit together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this angst...I’ll have to hope it’s sad enough huehuehue

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment any criticism or scenes you would like to see play out between characters? and I'll see whether I am able to integrate it in the story. Otherwise, I have very juicy plots coming your ways. Thanks for supporting and reading to the end!


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